


Forgive Me, Father

by Anonymous



Category: Diary of a Wimpy Kid Series - Jeff Kinney
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Religious Guilt, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14236908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Heffleys are at church; Rodrick wants Greg, and Greg wants to be pure.





	Forgive Me, Father

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK AGAIN REALLY SOON BC I MET A NEW FRIEND AND I LOVE HER
> 
> blah blah blah SORRY MOM

_ My girl’s so sad,  _

_ Everything I do makes him mad, _

_ Cries and Cries till his eyes are red,  _

_ Like two ugly cherries up in his head  _

On a cold Sunday morning, somewhere in the middle of the church sermon their parents dragged them to every weekend, they were all dressed up. Even Rodrick’s hair was combed into submission to look presentable to the preacher and all the fellow attendants. It was very important to Susan Heffley, who looked to God for guidance, especially with her teenage boys that often spiraled out of control. Jesus Christ seemed like the only helping hand in her parenting, and that lead to them sitting in the pews in a somewhat full church. They had gotten there late, so they were seated in the back with an older couple and their small grandchild. They all sat relatively close to one another, trying to listen.

Greg and Rodrick more than the others. Their thighs were touching, pressed together on the bench as the smaller brother watched the preacher very keenly, obviously listening to every word that left his mouth. Greg trusted Susan, so he automatically trusted religion. He was still fairly young, believing everything he was told, and that was fine, but Rodrick still had an itch to scratch. He was surprised that he didn’t burst into flames the moment he passed through the threshold, but hey, miracles happen. “The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, and debauchery,” the preacher said. 

“I warn you, those who live this way will not inherit the kingdom of God.”

Rodrick placed a heavy hand on Greg’s thigh, kingdom of God be damned. Greg looked at him out of the corner of his eye nervously, trying to snatch his thigh out from his touch. Rodrick wouldn’t let him. Nobody was paying attention to them. Everyone’s eyes were glued respectfully to the front of the church, watching the preacher speak and gesture dramatically. Rodrick’s hand eased inwards, curling around the inside of his leg and stroking the fabric with his thumb. Greg gulped, staring down at his brother’s bony digits against his slacks. Rodrick was staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge it. 

He acted like he wasn’t doing anything at all, and it was driving Greg insane. If anyone saw, they might take it as a friendly touch; an emotional connection between siblings. But it wasn’t friendly, it was sinful. Rodrick was probably the most wicked person in the entire church, and yet everyone but him was asking for forgiveness. There wasn’t a force out there that could hold him back from this. Not even Greg’s own innocence and belief in the Lord. Rodrick knew Greg had his own thoughts, his own vices, those that drew him into the attic late at night where they shared the same bed and kissed languidly. 

This was different, though. This wasn’t a dark, empty room where no one could see them. This was a bright and populated church full of family members and religious folks they knew and, if the bible was true, God himself. Rodrick’s hand got closer and closer to his groin, so incredibly close to his dick that Greg was trying his best to restrain his trembling. “Let us bow our heads in prayer,” the preacher said, and the very moment everyone’s eyes closed with their necks bent over, Rodrick cupped Greg’s hard dick in his hand. If anyone heard the high pitched gasp that left his mouth, nobody said anything. 

Rodrick stroked him through his pants, feeling him harden entirely below his palm. Greg was squirming, chewing on his lip, shaking his head frantically as the preacher spoke encouraging words at the altar. “We are all connected by God himself. We should never hide from Christ, for he sees everything we do, whether we are in the dark or in the light of day. We are forgiven and loved dearly when we step into the sun and say, I am yours, Christ. I am yours to use to spread your message.” 

He leaned over into Greg’s space, breath hot against his ear, his voice barely audible, “You are  _ mine _ to spread  _ my _ message.” 

Greg shivered, his eyes fluttering in arousal as he struggled to breathe evenly. It was a moment of horrid power for Rodrick, who was aware of everyone in the whole fucking building. He listened to every movement, every breath taken inwards, every shuffle of fabric. Every set of eyes in the place were closed, deep in thought, thinking about their beliefs and their prayers, and Rodrick’s hand was on his little brother’s dick. Maybe he should’ve been the one with his eyes closed. Maybe he should’ve been on his knees at the front of the church, asking for forgiveness or whatever. But he didn’t feel like it, really. 

His hand left Greg’s dick the second everyone looked back up, and he pretended to do the same as well, looking over to smile at his mother. She smiled back, and he knew he was one twisted fucker. “Greg needs to use the bathroom, can we go, please?” he asked in an unusually polite voice. Susan nodded, and Rodrick stood up quickly, looking back down at his brother and gesturing towards the bathroom. Greg got up awkwardly, doing his best to keep the front of his pants hidden as he slid past the rest of the family, following Rodrick out of the first set of double doors and into the bathroom obediently. 

“You’re really messed up, I hope you know that,” Greg said, trying not to look at Rodrick dead on as his older brother locked the door behind them both. Rodrick turned to face him and nodded absentmindedly, his eyes trained on his little brother’s lips as he began cornering Greg into the far edge of the room. He could still hear the service continuing on without them, the preacher’s voice booming in an echo throughout the church. Something about repenting for your sins. Rodrick closed in on him, sliding his hands on either side of Greg’s waist and leaning in to press their lips together. 

Greg almost protested, but there seemed to be a part of him that wanted this just as much as Rodrick did. Their kiss was insistent and fevered, a drag of chapped lips under the flourescent lights of the bathroom. Rodrick led the way, swiping his tongue across his brother’s bottom lip and chesiring the appreciating hum that he got in return. Something was so dirty about licking into his brother’s mouth, tasting the mouthwash that was sitting on their sink at home and the candy he was eating in the car. He was so sweet and it just spurred Rodrick on, sending his right hand flying for the zipper of his pants. 

He popped the button open, unzipping the slacks in one smooth motion as he dropped to the floor.

Rodrick shoved his briefs down, exposing Greg’s hard, leaking cock to the chilly air of the bathroom. Greg’s face was flustered as he looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to see the sight of his teenage brother on his knees for him. Rodrick smirked as he looked up, knowing that shame and guilt were pooling in Greg’s stomach along with his lust. He grabbed his cock and leaned forward to draw the sensitive, pink head into his warm mouth. He swirled his tongue around it, listening to the way Greg struggled to hold in his moans above him. There was a smug look on his face, no doubt taunting Greg. 

Rodrick took it further into his mouth, tasting salty precum mixing in with his spit as he slid it deep into the back of his throat and trapped Greg against the wall with his mouth. He pulled off, and Greg whined, his cock red and bobbing with spit in front of his face. “Fuck my mouth, Greggy,” Rodrick rasped, looking up at his little brother through thick eyelashes as he grinned with reddened lips. Their eyes were locked when Greg nodded, looking awestruck and glassy in the eyes. He was so far gone. 

Rodrick wrapped his lips back around the tip, and felt lust pool hot into his stomach when Greg threaded his fingers through his wild hair. He thrusted forward weakly, maybe a little anxiously. Greg’s cock was throbbing in his mouth, incredibly close despite only five minutes passing. He fucked Rodrick’s mouth, fingers twisting in pleasure as he was engulfed into a damp, curling heat over and over and over again. “This, hah, is so w-wrong, oh  _ God _ ,” Greg said, his voice quiet and quivering. 

Rodrick pulled away with an audible  _ pop _ , sensing Greg’s impending orgasm. Greg whined impatiently, rocking against the wall in agitation. “Rodrick, please… please…” he begged, and watched in agony as Rodrick shook his head no, licking the spit and precum off his lips. Rodrick’s hands skated up his soft thighs, a new plan in mind. When his hands met his narrow hips, he turned him around and Greg followed without a single word being spoken between them. Greg was now standing with his palms flat against the cold, tile wall with his dress shirt riding up and his pants pooling around his ankles. 

His dick was dribbling precum onto the floor, and distantly, Rodrick heard people clapping. He didn’t care, kneading his little brother’s bare ass and pulling apart his cheeks to drag his sopping tongue across Greg’s tight hole suddenly. Greg cried out, but pushed back against his face. “N-no, this is…  _ wrong _ ,” he moaned weakly, but Rodrick just dug his fingers harder into his pale hips and circled his hole, feeling his brother tremble above him. He licked into him, feeling the soft, velvet walls with the very tip of his tongue. Greg was grinding back into him when Rodrick reached around and grabbed his slick cock. 

Multiple languid, calloused strokes later, and Greg was convulsing, knees threatening to give out. It was like he didn’t know what to do, caught between Rodrick’s mouth and hand as he squirmed. “Rodrick, I-I,” he barely managed to stutter before his body went taut, drawing up like a bow as his brother’s tongue still writhed inside of him as deep as it could go and his thumb circled the head of his cock. He was climaxing, back arching, his hips pressed into Rodrick’s face as he shook and cried with it.

Greg slumped down, breathing hard as his heart hammered in his chest. “Fuck,” Rodrick said, pulling away and grinning, obviously pleased. Greg turned away from him, wobbling on his feet, and uneasily tried to reach down and yank his pants back up. He barely managed to get them buckled, his hair sticking up in every direction as he wiped the drool off his lip. “You’re so hot, did you know that?” 

“Shut up,” Greg said lowly, not making eye contact with him.

Rodrick frowned and took in his flustered state; the distant look in his eyes, the slight tremble of his body, the way he wouldn’t make eye contact with him. Rodrick felt a complete shift in the mood, and it was hard not to let it eat at him. “Wow, not so nice now that you’ve gotten what you wanted?” 

Greg glared at him, his mouth contorted into a nasty smirk, “What I wanted? You mean what you wanted…” 

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Greg,” he told him quietly, patiently even, shifting from foot to foot to adjust his own cock in his black slacks. 

Greg sank against the wall, his eyes cutting as they looked up at him. “Don’t you care that we’re here? Doesn’t it bother you that you just  _ did that  _ to me?

Rodrick blinked at him a few times, looking a little strained.“Uh, no?” 

“Do you ever listen during church? Do you know why we’re here? It’s ‘cause you could very well get thrown into hell for anything, and especially these things! What we-  _ you’re  _ doing is one of the most worst things you could possibly do! And you don’t even care!” Greg ranted, blinking away the frustrated tears that began to gather in his dark eyes. “It’s so wrong. So wrong. So  _ immoral _ , Rodrick.”

Rodrick sighed. He wasn’t annoyed or surprised. He just had no regular way to describe the way he felt. He didn’t even mind that Greg was blaming it all on him. Maybe it would be different if they were the same as they were two months ago, and Greg had stolen the remote or something. Maybe he’d be angrier, more outraged at Greg’s own argument. But they were different now, and he had grown a certain patience. He was out of his mind, but he had a rope tied to his waist. “Tell me what you want.” 

Greg looked like he was bubbling over with something, “I want  _ you _ to tell me _ no _ , so I don’t have to deal with myself saying yes. I want you to fucking do something horrible to me so I don’t want you anymore, so I can go back to the pews and sit with mom and hate your guts. All you’re doing is staring at me, wanting me, and it makes me want you, and it hurts so fucking much because this isn’t right. This isn’t what God has planned for us, Rodrick. This is wrong. Fucked up. Documentary weird.” 

“I’m never gonna be able to say no to you. I will want you every single time,” Rodrick said indignantly, shaking his head. “What’s so wrong about this, huh, Greg? It is ‘cause we’re related, or is it just your fucking superiority complex again? I think you’re just worried about not being pure like mom wants.”

He and Greg were both breathing a little heavy, and outside the priest said something that vibrated through the speakers outside the bathroom -  _ forgive them, father, for they don’t know what they are doing  _ \- and instead of yelling back, Greg sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. And if it couldn’t get any worse, he began to sob. Soft, broken cries echoing throughout the bathroom. It shouldn’t have broken Rodrick’s heart the way that it did. He should’ve rolled his eyes, annoyed. 

Instead, he immediately went to him, sliding down on the floor bedside him to pull him into his arms. “Greg, it’s okay. It’s alright. I didn’t mean it, I promise…” Rodrick tried to soothe him, and Greg just curled into him, arms snaking around his chest and pulling him close as he cried into his dress shirt. 

“I don’t want to be bad, Rodrick. I don’t want to sin,” Greg cried, voice cracking around the edges. 

Rodrick hummed, not exactly sure what to say. “Hey, uh, it’s not sin if it’s done in love, right?” 

Greg shrugged, and Rodrick continued. “I think I heard that once, y’know. And I love you. And you love me. So, what do we have to worry about?” 

“Are y-you sure?” Greg sniffled, looking up at him with teary, doe eyes. 

Rodrick leaned down and kissed his forehead, his voice soft, “Of course, Greg. Of course.” 


End file.
